Once upon a time
by jacobk
Summary: This is a place for story beginnings that won't leave me alone. If there's enough demand I suppose I might extend them.
1. Nin-ception

AN: This totally could be canon.

ooOoo

Itachi glanced to his right and felt a swell of pride at the sight of his brother ready to march into battle by his side. Sasuke had not always chosen the path that he would have wanted, but there was no denying that he had grown up to be a strong shinobi. Itachi felt confident that once this technique was ended and he was no longer there to watch over his little brother, Sasuke would be able to stand on his own two feet.

It was a shame that he couldn't allow Sasuke to follow him all the way to his confrontation with Kabuto. Itachi was just forming the hand seals for the summoning technique-intending to use the crows as a distraction while he left his brother behind-when a familiar voice interrupted him.

"Hello kids." The voice came from up ahead. Itachi stopped short, and saw Sasuke's posture stiffen in shock.

"It can't be..." Sasuke whispered. "Father?"

"Apparently they finished resurrecting everybody else." Fugaku said, his voice as sarcastic as ever, "and decided it would be a good idea to have the guy who almost took over Konoha on their side."

"This is pointless." Itachi said. "I have already defeated you once."

"Did you?" Fugaku asked. "The way I remember it, I let you kill me so I wouldn't have to see what a loser your brother would grow up to be."

With that Sasuke's temper, always a delicate thing, snapped, and he launched himself towards his father behind a series of fire attacks. None of the jutsu came close to touching Fugaku, and he evaded Sasuke's follow-up sword strikes with contemptuous ease. Finally, he reached out and poked his opponent in the forehead and Sasuke stopped, staring at his father with confusion written all over his face.

"Sasuke, why don't you quiet down and let the adults talk." Fugaku's tone was soothing, but picked up a mocking edge as he continued. "You can cry about how I never loved you, or beat off to that blonde kid, or whatever it is you do to pass the time."

This time Sasuke charged forward in an incoherent rage. Fugaku allowed himself to be impaled on Sasuke's katana in exchange for a vicious blow to the temple that knocked Sasuke unconscious. He shook his head as he pulled out the sword and allowed the Edo Tensai technique to heal the damage.

"It's hard to believe that my cock made something that stupid." Fugaku said.

"My father loved Sasuke." Itachi commented, as he tried to figure out what was going on. His father had always been demanding, but he had never been openly contemptuous of his children. This could be some form of mind control, or a disguise assumed by some other combatant.

"That's true. I would never treat my son this way." Fugaku replied, breaking his train of thought. "Tell me, when's the last time you checked your token."

Itachi started a bit at the non sequitor. Each Uchiha trained in the art of genjutsu developed a personal token, some item that nobody else would know about and be able to duplicate. It served as a reference point for checking if you had been captured in an enemy illusion. Fugaku still had yet to activate his Sharingan, it was absurd to imply that he had trapped Itachi of all people in a genjutsu.

"I haven't bothered with a token for years." Itachi replied, still searching for a weakness in the creature wearing the form of his father. "Not since I tested these eyes against the best genjutsu Konoha had to offer and found them wanting."

Fugaku just hummed non-commitally and raised an eyebrow.

"The idea that you have ensnared me in an illusion is ridiculous." Itachi continued, fighting to keep his cool. This man was getting under his skin like his father had always been able to, that was for sure.

"Of course I would be unable to trap you." Fugaku said, before changing tracks. "But have you really forgotten your second stage training so quickly?"

Itachi kept his expression neutral as he pondered his father's question. Any Uchiha who wished to achieve true mastery of genjutsu had to qualify for the second stage of the clan's training. In order to pass, you had to be able to split off a part of your consciosness that would provide a sort of oversight function, supplementing the effort of the main consciousness in any genjutsu battle. Itachi's guardian had naturally taken the form of his father, the man who was guiding him to develop his skills.

"You are my guardian?" Itachi said, his voice flat. "That's absurd."

"The world is absurd!" Fugaku yelled, raising his arms in the air in frustration. "Sasuke beat Orochimaru! Naruto is descended from the fourth Hokage and the Senju, he stays in sage mode while he walks around, he has the Rinnegan, and he's friends with the Kyuubi! Madara bats Kage around like genin, and summons meteors for fun! And with all of this, you've been brought back from the dead to save the world. It's like-"

Fugaku seemed to choke, unable to finish the sentence, but Itachi knew what he was going to say.

"It's like a wish-fulfillment jutsu gone on too long." Itachi said. "But why wouldn't my guardian have shown up sooner?"

"Hypothetically," Fugaku said, strain evident in his expression, "a genjutsu might be performed that would block your guardian from appearing. In that case, it would have to exploit some loophole in order to appear, and even then it's actions would be constrained until you figure out what's going on."

"So you couldn't act until the Edo Tensei brought Fugaku back to life and you came along for the ride?" Itachi asked, receiving a nod in return. Itachi sat down as he tried to come to terms with his life having been an illusion for... "How long?"

"You remember Kurenai?" Fugaku asked. The shock must have shown on Itachi's face, as his father chuckled. "You didn't think they made her a jounin because of that stupid tree illusion, did you? Or were you just too busy staring at her tits to think it through?"

Itachi winced at the coarse language. The mental guardian tended to pick up on personality traits that were suppressed in the primary consciousness. Itachi had always found sexual attraction to be an irritating distraction from his duties as a ninja, and did his best to keep a lid on them. It had been long enough that he had forgotten what an incurable pervert his mental Fugaku could be.

He shook his head and put the matter to the side as he focused on the issue at hand. He hadn't seen Kurenai in a long time.

"My one fight with Kurenai... that was years ago." Itachi said.

"Subjectively, yes. It may have been less time on the outside." Fugaku said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "The good news is, nobody's really watching this thing any more. In the beginning they kept an eye on it to try and pull the intel out of your brain, but they stopped when things started getting ridiculous."

"So..." Itachi said, then closed his eyes.

When he opened them, the forest was gone, and he was lying in a hospital bed in an apparently abandoned room.

ooOoo 


	2. The Tea Shop Rebellion

AN: Angry early Zuko is my favorite Zuko.

ooOoo

Two years. Two years of scouring the earth for the Avatar had brought Zuko no closer to his goal, to his redemption. He had visited the Northern, Southern, Eastern, and Western Air Temples, hoping to find some clue in those relics of a dead civilization to lead him toward his quarry. He had searched the southern ice cap, and he had even made a brief-and foolish-foray into the land of the Northern Water Tribe. And now he was reduced to chasing rumors in the backwoods of the Earth Kingdom.

Zuko growled and lashed out at a rock in the road, his frustration boiling over. The kick sent the rock skipping out of sight, chased by a small arc of flame. He could hear a disapproving sigh from his uncle, and a fearful whimper from the captive slung over his uncle's shoulder.

Their prisoner had been passing himself off as the Avatar in order to take advantage of the generosity of the families living in the Earth Kingdom countryside. Capturing him was perhaps the first positive thing to come of Zuko's banishment, but it brought the disgraced prince no closer to winning his father's favor.

"This is impossible!" Zuko shouted, flinging his hands up in the air in frustration. "The war has been going on for nearly one hundred years, and the Fire Nation has had people looking for the Avatar for almost that long. If he were alive to be found, they would have found him. We're chasing a ghost!"

His uncle Iroh said nothing, and when Zuko turned to look at him he was wearing the expression of a teacher waiting for a pupil to figure out something for himself.

"But without finding the Avatar, I can never restore my honor and return to the Fire Nation." Zuko said, thinking things over. "So it can't be impossible. Father must know something, some reason that I can succeed where others have failed."

"Your logic is impeccable as always, nephew." Iroh said. He sounded tired, which only made sense considering how long he had been carrying the false Avatar.

The pair walked down the road for some time in silence. Zuko was reviewing everything he knew about the Avatar, trying to figure out the missing piece of the puzzle, when his uncle spoke again.

"Carrying a prisoner is thirsty work." Iroh said. "Once we've dropped this gentleman off, might I suggest we stop for a cup of tea? I saw a shop back in town that had a jasmine blend that I have always found helps me to think through problems."

"We're not going to catch the Avatar in a tea shop." Zuko replied, before relenting. "But I guess after two years of chasing, he's hardly going to escape just because we stopped for some tea."

ooOoo

The tea shop was run down, just like the rest of the village. The little town was known for producing two things: strong earthbenders and the coal they were able to dig out of the local mine. Both of these items were strategically important to the Fire Nation, and so the town had a larger than average garrison in addition to the troops needed to run the local prison barge.

Contrary to what Zuko would have expected, the town did not seem to have benefited from such intense exposure to the Fire Nation. The local townsfolk didn't have the look of a people who were growing prosperous thanks to increased trade and improved technology. Instead they had the washed-out look of a defeated people, and seemed to simply go through the motions required of daily life while attempting not to draw anybody's attention.

Zuko put such speculation out of his mind as he sipped at the cup of tea that his uncle had prepared for him. Letting the tea sit on his tongue he carefully inhaled, doing his best to savor the delicate aromas his uncle was always talking about. After a moment he shook his head as he swallowed the tea.

"It still just tastes like hot leaf juice to me." Zuko said, bracing himself for the inevitable response.

His uncle's lecture on the merits of a good cup of tea was forestalled by the sounds of a scuffle at the back of the shop. When Zuko turned to look he saw two Fire Nation soldiers looming over the shop owner. Without thinking about it, Zuko stood and approached the conflict.

"Please, sirs, I will have the money next week-" the proprietor started to speak, before he was interrupted by a slap from one of the soldiers.

"The money is due now!" The soldier shouted. He took a moment to compose himself, and when he spoke again his voice was lower but somehow more threatening. "You're holding out on us. You know what I think? I think nobody has the balls to hold out on us unless they have a bender on their side. Maybe that son of yours is showing some talent, hmm?"

"No, please! Don't-"

"What's the meaning of this?" Zuko didn't realize until after he had spoken that the question came from him. "Are you Fire Nation soldiers, or criminal thugs?"

"Piss off, kid." One of the fire nation soldiers turned, waving his arm in a shooing motion. "This isn't your problem-"

The other man may have been older and larger, but Zuko had been trained in combat since he could walk. It was a simple matter to seize the man's outstretched arm, yank him around into a painful hold, and then silence him with a palm full of fire held in front of his face.

"I believe my nephew has decided to make it his problem." Iroh spoke from close behind Zuko. "You should leave. Now."

There was no trace of kindly old Uncle Iroh in his voice-this was clearly the Dragon of the West speaking. Zuko released the man he was holding, and the two soldiers left the tea shop as quickly as their feet could take them.

"You're just going to let them go?" Zuko demanded. "Fire Nation soldiers are supposed to protect citizens, not shake them down for money. Those two are the worst kind of scum, and we just let them walk away?"

Iroh shook his head sadly, but it was the shopkeeper who replied. "I cannot say what soldiers are supposed to do, but those are not the first to come by to collect... special taxes."

"You're saying this is a regular occurrence?" Zuko asked, staring at the man in shock. "And their commander..."

"The commander is the one who instituted the collection of the special taxes." The shopkeeper replied, nodding.

"That's unbelievable! We should tell the governor, then." Zuko said. "Once he knows what's happening-"

Zuko stopped talking when his uncle placed a warning hand on his shoulder. Looking at Iroh, Zuko was unable to decipher the expression on his face.

"In a small town like this, nothing happens without the governor's permission." Iroh explained, for once sounding like the old man that he was. "Isn't that right?"

The shopkeeper nodded again, practically shaking in fear. He bowed low, almost prostrating himself to the floor before them. "Please, sirs, no more. I am grateful for your help, but please... just go.".

Bewildered, Zuko offered no resistance as his uncle led him out of the shop. It wasn't until they were out on the street that he shook off the hand on his shoulder and turned to point an accusing finger at his uncle.

"This isn't right! If my father knew what was going on here, he wouldn't tolerate any of it." Zuko paused, as a thought occurred to him. "That's what I'll do! If nobody else is willing to rein in the governor, I'll write to my father to let him know what's being done in his name."

"Oh, Prince Zuko..." Iroh said, shaking his head sadly. Zuko was surprised at his uncle's subdued reaction, until he realized that Iroh's gaze was fixed on the left side of his face.

of course. The scar. The mark of his shame. His father wouldn't be interested in a letter from the son that he had banished in disgrace.

Reddening in anger and shame, Zuko turned and stalked back towards the ship. This situation had to be something that he could fix. If he couldn't bring a corrupt colonial governor to justice, how could ever hope to catch the Avatar?

ooOoo

That night a figure slipped off of Zuko's ship and onto the docks. A shadow within a shadow, nobody noted its presence as it made its way to the governor's mansion. If anybody had spotted it, they would have seen a man clad all in black... with a grinning blue festival mask for a head.

Zuko was on a mission, but he couldn't help but revel in the freedom of being the Blue Spirit. It had started as a way to blow off steam-the mask let him wander through the crowd without every eye being drawn to his scar, it let him get into fights without sullying the image of a royal prince-but over time he found that the mask represented freedom, a chance to build his own identity. Moving silently from rooftop to rooftop, he was amazed at the change that a simple mask could cause. Prince Zuko was a conflicted young man, pulled in different directions by duty, honor, family, patriotism. The Blue Spirit pursued only justice.

Breaking into the governor's mansion was easy enough for somebody who grew up sneaking around the Fire Palace, and Zuko was soon crouched in the governor's office, reading through the governor's files by the light of a small flame cupped in his palm.

What he needed was proof. In happier times a prince's word would be enough to move the Fire Lord, if not to precipitous action, at least to investigate. Unfortunately, Fire Lord Ozai was hardly the type of man to be moved by a letter from his disgraced son. A letter that included convincing evidence that a governor was subverting one of the colonies for his own personal gain, that would be a different story.

And so Zuko was reading through the voluminous paperwork that accompanied the governance of even a small part of the Fire Nation empire. It was boring work. He knew that the governor could hardly be expected to have a file with "Evil Plans Here" written on the front, but he had hoped that something important would jump out at him. Zuko was starting to consider giving up for the night to approach the problem from another angle when the imperial seal caught his eye.

Zuko stopped to look at the letter, which both the seal and handwriting marked as having come from the Fire Lord. He began reading it carefully, desperate for anything that would let him feel close to his father. As he started to understand what he was reading, he found himself unable to stop.

Governor,

I have received a missive from one Ichiro Morishita, complaining about the special excise taxes imposed as part of my five year plan. Please make an example of Mr. Morishita-it would be a shame for unrest in your province to jeopardize the success of our war efforts.

The imperial seal that had initially caught his attention was affixed to the bottom of the letter, along with his father's signature. Just behind the letter was the report on the execution of Ichiro Morishita, burned to death by a team of firebenders in the public square.

Zuko stared at the letter, unable to deny what he saw. His father knew! While he made speeches about the Fire Nation bringing prosperity and technology to the world, he knew his governors were bleeding the conquered territories dry. He knew they were killing anybody who resisted. He knew-Zuko brought his fingers up to feel the scarred skin on his face-he certainly knew what happened when firebending was brought to bear against human flesh.

Only the fact that he was in the middle of what now seemed to be an enemy stronghold kept Zuko from screaming his frustration at the top of his lungs. Acting in haste, he tucked the letter away in his pocket and packed the rest of the paperwork up as best he could before making his way back to his ship.

That night, Prince Zuko did not get a wink of sleep.

ooOoo

Iroh hummed to himself as he headed towards his nephew's cabin, tea service in hand. Zuko had missed his morning firebending practice, an unusual occurence in itself. Combined with the confrontation from the past day, Iroh could only assume that his nephew was in a bit of a funk. It was always hard, being confronted with an injustice that you could not fight. Iroh could only hope that his willingness to provide a sympathetic ear-and a cup of green tea-would help settle the young prince's passions.

A muffled voice bid him enter after he knocked on the door, and Iroh stepped into the cabin to find Zuko seated in front of his writing desk. He was looking at two pieces of paper that he had laid out before himself, but his thoughts seemed to be a thousand miles away. Before Iroh could say anything Zuko turned to look at him, and it was all he could do to stop himself from flinching back. The prince's eyes were the eyes of a desperate man.

"Uncle... father doesn't expect me to ever find the Avatar, does he?" Zuko asked.

The prince's voice was hollow, and Iroh felt a welling up of sympathy for the sad figure in front of him, but he found he couldn't lie to the boy he considered to be his adopted son. Steeling himself, he shook his head.

"Even if through some miracle I did capture the Avatar, it wouldn't change how father feels about me, would it?" Zuko continued.

Iroh shook his head once more.

"If nothing I can do will make father happy, then-" Zuko said, then paused to straighten himself and look Iroh in the eye before he spoke, his voice tinged with a new conviction. "Then I should do what I know is right."

Iroh carefully set the tea set down to the side before moving forward to sweep his nephew into a bear hug. For the first time in two years he felt his heart fill with hope for the future. The Avatar may have foresaken the world, but at least his nephew was growing up into a man to be proud of.

ooOoo 


End file.
